


Stringendo

by PlayingChello



Series: Scherzo [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Worship, Fingering, Hand Job, M/M, Musical Instruments, No Angst, Shower Sex, Smut, Violins, because I didn't go into Levi's back story, if I need to tag something else lemme know, lots of fluffy fluff, side erumike, side reibert, some side aruani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 05:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3345602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingChello/pseuds/PlayingChello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stringendo: adjective, adverb, Music. </p>
<p>1. (of a musical direction) progressively quickening in tempo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stringendo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lostinlife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinlife/gifts).



> Ok, this only took me eighty million years to get out, seeing as I started it in like November, BUT it's finally here. The long awaited sequel to Adagio. This is so fluffy and adorable and yeah. I hope you all enjoy it and sorry it ended up being so long? Or maybe you're welcome. Idk. There's a playlist [here](http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_r2rEoqjHBnd8DQHy6KLjMXFW3ZrZd7i) that's really just some music from the concert, so lots of Christmas stuff.
> 
> Also, this contains some minor spoilers for the movie _The Red Violin_. Please do yourself a favour and watch that movie, preferably first. It's really good and on Amazon Prime instant streaming. Lots of subtitles though, it's in a whole bunch of different languages.
> 
> Thanks ever so much to my beta, [Renee](http://randompinkbunny9.tumblr.com) who is so wonderfully supportive and demanded I not touch the last paragraph with a ten foot pole after it was written because she liked it so much.
> 
> I have a [tumblr](http://playingchello.tumblr.com).

“Alright, we have an orchestra performance coming up that...” Erwin pauses to check his notes, “Connie, Sasha, Christa, and Ymir are playing in. I expect to see everyone not playing going to support. No one else should have any other obligations that night. Any questions?”

Annie raises her hand and Erwin nods for her to speak, “Reminder that Armin is accompanying for Nanaba’s vocal review at the end of the week.”

Armin blushes deeply and Erwin’s eyes widen, “Oh yes, I’m sorry, Armin, I totally forgot. Everyone should attend that as well. I’m sure you’ll all enjoy Nanaba’s vocals as well. If that’s all, you’re dismissed.”

Chairs pop up loudly as most of the group stands. I move to stand but see Annie glaring at Armin. Anyone else would think she’s mad at him, but I’ve gotten to know her pretty well recently and she’s really just frustrated at his modesty. “Armin, don’t let them forget you.”

Mikasa comes up to my side as I stand next to where Annie and Armin are seated. “I know,” he says quietly and Annie’s gaze softens ever so slightly, but for her it’s monumental.

She leans over and kisses his temple, “Come on, let’s go.”

The four of us leave together, the last ones out of the theater where we meet as members of the Survey Agency. Once we clear the building I peel off from the group, “I’ll see you guys later, yeah?”

“Got a date?” Armin asks, brow raised teasingly.

I glare, “Yes, and you have absolutely no room to talk.” Annie none-too-subtly weaves her fingers through his.

I turn to walk off but Armin stops me, “Hey, ask him if he’s coming to Nanaba’s show?”

“Definitely, though I can already tell you the answer is yes.” I smile at him once more before I turn and walk off.

It’s been about five months since auditions and a little less since Armin, Mikasa, and I moved up to New York City. I still don’t know the city all that well, but I’m definitely better. But the fact that it’s after Thanksgiving in Manhattan doesn’t help; there are people _everywhere_. The walk to Central Park isn’t _that_ far but it feels like it takes me forever just because I have to navigate through throngs of people. And getting to the park doesn’t even help all that much, it’s a popular date location, especially in the winter.

I stop when a deep (and slightly perturbed) voice calls, “Oi, brat!” I turn to find Levi with an irate expression. I had walked right passed him.

He glares at me from over his scarf wrapped thickly around his neck and covering the bottom half of his face. I break into a huge grin and wrap my arms around him, “Cold?”

“Of course I’m cold, it’s fucking freezing. Don’t ask stupid questions.” His words seem harsh, but his tone is affectionate and his arms come up to my waist to return my embrace. “How was the meeting?”

“Same old,” I pull back slightly to look down at him, “Erwin forgot about Armin’s show with Nanaba. You’re going right?”

His eyes narrow at me, “Didn’t I just tell you not to ask stupid questions? Of course I’m going.”

“Armin wanted me to ask, even when I told him you’d be there.” I pull him impossibly closer, trying to share our warmth, and duck my head down to kiss his forehead, “So what are we doing?”

“You’re incorrigible.” He shakes his head then turns out of my grip and leads me out of the park toward 5th.

As tends to be our way, the walk is mostly silent. We move hand in hand, both for the intimacy and in order to stay together on the crowded streets. I’m not huge on walking down 5th, the expensive stores remind me that I’m still young and largely unknown and can’t afford things like that. It’s been worse lately, since I have to figure out what to get Levi for Christmas _and_ his birthday.

I’m torn from my bittersweet daydreaming when Levi tugs insistently at my arm, pulling me up short. I blink and look around. We’ve stopped at the Rockefeller Center in front of the massive tree. “The Christmas tree?”

“Why is every fucking thing out of your mouth a stupid question today? Yes, it’s December. Christmas is coming, so there is a tree and we are at it.” I count myself lucky he likes me because there is no way he would take my annoying shit otherwise.

“Yes, I got all that. Why, though?”

He sighs and puts on a show of being monumentally inconvenienced having to explain, “I like Christmas, I like this tree, and I like you. Are you done now?”

Stunned into silence, I nod. Sometimes his bluntness still catches me by surprise, even after months of being the brunt of it. And I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to his affections.

He drops my hand in favour of circling his arm around my waist as he stares up at the tree, lit up in the failing light. I find myself paying less attention to the tree and more to the man standing next to me. The sky darkens quickly and as the city lights come up, they reflect off his steely eyes, bringing out a brightness that I rarely get to see. As we stand there, his lips soften into the barest of smiles and he just looks so _happy_. The realisation hits me all at once and brings a smile to my lips.

“You don’t have any jobs right now, right?” He doesn’t turn to me, just keeps watching the twinkling of the tree as he speaks.

“Now who’s asking stupid questions?” I joke, poking my tongue out between my teeth, “No, nothing right now.”

His eyes flick to me briefly, then return to the tree, “Good. I have something for you.”

“Yeah?” I look at him full on now, “Solo or group?”

“Duet.”

I raise an eyebrow, “With who?”

His head turns to me with a frown, “Whom.”

“Are you seriously correcting my grammar right now? Who am I playing with?”

He smirks, “Me.”

My shock must be apparent because he chuckles at the wide eyed face I make. I’ve played _for_ Levi many times by now, but in all the time we’ve known each other I’ve never once played _with_ him. Even in private. He’s always been such a solo artist since his quartet broke up and Erwin retired. And he’s got a steady supply of jobs, so it’s not like he needs this for anything.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to. I put on an annual Christmas concert and I want you to play with me. I’m paying you, so-”

“You can’t pay me to do that!”

The way his eyes widen tells me I yelled a little too intensely. “What do you mean I can’t pay you? I’m asking you to play for me, I’m going to pay you for it.”

“I can’t take money from you for this,” I tell him with as serious an expression as I can muster. I mean it.

“Why the fuck not? Do you not want to play?” He comes to stand in front of me and almost looks hurt and I hurry to find the words to reassure him.

“It’s not that. It’s the fact that I _do_ want to play that I can’t take money. You’re trying to pay me for something I’ve dreamed of doing since I was ten. I can’t take money for that. The opportunity is payment enough. Plus, it’s you. You don’t have to pay me to play with you.”

“I’ve paid you before.”

“Yeah, but that was to play with someone else, that was just your patronage. This is playing _with_ you. Not for you. You’re not paying me.”

He glares at me, but there is no malice. It’s just how he shows he’s relenting. For now at least. “So what are we playing?”

At that he smiles, “Some Christmas stuff. And a little piece I wrote.”

“Ooo, which one?”

He kisses me then turns back to the tree, “You haven’t heard it yet. It’s a surprise.”

\--

“Do you want to stay over tonight?”

We’re standing outside the building I live in and Levi’s lingering on the sidewalk. He glances up toward the windows, “I don’t think your roommates would appreciate that.”

“Armin doesn’t mind, and Mikasa can deal with it.”

He looks at me a long moment, “You’re oblivious. Does Annie ever stay over?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I say, twisted frown on my face.

“Answer the question.”

“No, she doesn’t. Armin goes to hers.”

“Thought so. I’m not staying over. You can come back with me if you want.”

I am seconds away from agreeing when I remember what day it is. When I do, my face falls, “I can’t. It’s my turn to make dinner and I promised Mikasa I’d make mom’s curry.”

He remains impassive, but if the way his mouth twitches is any indication, I’d say he’s upset about that. He doesn’t comment, though, just quietly hums to himself. “Goodnight, Eren.”

I duck my head for a short kiss, “Goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

He nods and walks away.

We live on the 65th floor of a somewhat shoddy apartment complex. The rent is outrageous, but that’s to be expected in the middle of Manhattan. Sometimes it’s hard for us, but Mikasa has jobs nearly constantly so we’ve been doing pretty well even if Armin or I can’t get money together in time. It hasn’t been long, but we’ve made it a place we can call home even if it is pretty small for three people to share space.

The elevator is obnoxiously slow and I find myself tapping my foot on the floor and humming some piece that I think Armin was practicing this morning. Finally, the elevator dings it’s arrival to the 65th floor and the doors open agonisingly slowly until I can get through them. The door to our apartment is unlocked so I don’t have to dig my keys out of my pocket.

“I’m home!"

Mikasa turns her head from where she’s sitting on the couch, watching TV, “The shorty isn’t with you.”

She says it more as an observation than as a question. I sigh with exasperation, “Don’t call him that.”

She shrugs, “Armin’s due back in the next hour or so.”

“Okay, I’ll start dinner. You still want curry?”

She smiles her tiny smile and sinks into her scarf some, “Yes please.”

After I shed my coat, I take over our little kitchenette area for the extensive task of imitating my mother’s curry. It’s the kind of recipe that gets passed down through generations but never gets written down. I learned how to make it when I was pretty young. Mom offered to teach Mikasa, too, but she never really got the hang of it. So, instead, I’m responsible for it and it’s one of Mikasa’s favourite dishes, so I make it for her when she asks.

At some point while I’m sneezing over curry powder, the door opens and Armin comes in. He offers a greeting before joining Mikasa on the couch. “Smells great, Eren!”

“Thanks, should be ready pretty soon now.” I check on the rice and find it’s just about finished. I give the curry another stir before turning off the stove before fluffing the rice.

I put the rice in a big bowl and set it on the meager excuse of a dining table we set up against the wall in the living room then bring the curry pan over and set it atop a pot holder. By the time I come back with plates and silverware, Mikasa and Armin have already moved to sit eagerly in front of the food.

As they take their servings, I bring over this little bottle of spicy powder Mikasa likes. I can never remember what it’s called but I like it well enough. I add a tiny sprinkle to my plate then hand it over to Mikasa who applies it _liberally_ to her food. She likes things to be ‘burn your mouth’ spicy.

Even though she knows he won’t take it, she still offers Armin the little bottle. He wrinkles his nose and declines the offer with a shake of his head. Then the room fills with the quiet sound of cheap silverware scraping on cheap dishware as we all dig in.

At first, it’s very quiet while we attack out food with voracity. Or at least, I do. But after a bit, we start easy conversation.

“So…” Armin starts about halfway through his food. Both Mikasa and I focus our attention on him, “Annie’s asked me to move in with her.”

For a long moment there is no sound. Neither of us move and Armin’s face gets progressively redder, and I’m sure it isn’t the heat of the curry. Finally, my brain starts working again, “That’s great, Armin!”

He smiles, face impossibly red, “Yeah. We figured this weekend should be a good time to move everything.”

“We’ll help,” Mikasa states without asking my opinion. Not that I wouldn’t have helped.

“So you guys aren’t mad?” he asks quietly.

My eyebrows go up in surprise, “Mad? Why would we be mad?”

He goes even redder, “Well, rent is pretty expensive and I won’t be here to help anymore. And I don’t want you to think I don’t want to live with you.”

I glance to Mikasa before answering, “For someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb sometimes. Why would we think you don’t want to live with us? We want you to be happy and Annie clearly makes you happy. Plus, Mikasa pretty much pays for rent on her own most of the time anyway.” Mikasa nods along with me.

He looks back sheepishly, “Thank you guys.”

“Of course! Plus, that means I’ll have the bedroom all to myself now.” He laughs and the conversation moves on to logistics of the move and making sure we’ll find time to have dinner together every so often.

“Oh! I almost forgot, Levi and I are playing together for a concert he’s doing!”

“When?” Armin asks.

I open my mouth to respond, then close it again when I realise I don’t actually know the answer, “I don’t know, he didn’t say. Soon, though. It’s mostly Christmas music.”

“We’ll be there,” Mikasa says before she puts her last forkful of food in her mouth. She swallows, then, “This is the first time you’re playing together, isn’t it?”

My jaw drops. She’s right, but I never knew she paid so much attention and the question takes me by surprise. “Um, yeah. I’m actually pretty nervous. We’re doing one of his pieces, too.”

At that moment, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I dig around for it.

**From: Levi Ackerman**   
_We’ll need an accompanist for the concert. Ask Armin._

“Levi says we need an accompanist for the concert. He wants you,” I turn to Armin. Mikasa, meanwhile, starts clearing the table.

“As long as I don’t have any conflicting jobs, I’d be honoured.”

**To: Levi Ackerman**   
_As long as he’s free he’s in. When is this concert going to be_

His reply is instantaneous.

**From: Levi Ackerman**   
_22nd. Three weeks._

“Alright, Levi says it’s the 22nd. We’re meeting up tomorrow, I’ll text you if we end up needing you.”

“I’ll be pretty busy tomorrow. I’ve got rehearsals every day until Friday with Nanaba. If you can get me the music though, I can practice whenever I’ve got spare time.”

I nod as we relocate to the couch for the rest of the evening.

\--

“Aghh, I can’t feel my hand anymore. It’s freezing outside.”

“No shit, that’s what gloves are for, dumbass.” Ah, twelve plus hours away has been too long from Levi’s harsh affection.

“Forgot them. And had to carry my violin.” I lay my case down on the counter separating the kitchen area from the living room then take my coat off.

“That’s your own damn fault. Come here.” Levi’s apartment is pretty simple, but it’s still bigger than the one I share with Mikasa and Armin, even though it only has one bedroom. There’s a short hall from the entryway that opens up to the living room and has an archway on the right to the kitchen. The kitchen is bigger than you’d expect for most single bedroom apartments in Manhattan, but it’s really nice and impeccably clean (as to be expected from Levi). There’s an opening in the wall over the counter behind the sink into the living room. The living room is a nice open space with a big window along the far wall and he’s got a fake tree set up in the corner and colourful lights strung all around the room. To the right is an archway that leads off to the bedroom, bathroom, and laundry room.

I walk over to where Levi’s lounging on the couch while I rub at my frozen fingers. “Hey.”

He doesn’t respond, but adjusts himself then motions for me to sit down so I can lean back into his chest. As soon as I settle, he brings his arms around me and takes my hands in his. His hands are warm and feel fantastic against the near icy blocks my fingers have become. Slowly, I can feel the warmth seeping back into them as he massages his fingers into my hands. I relax bonelessly back into him, “Hmmm, thank you.”

Satisfied that my fingers aren’t going to fall off, Levi starts playing with them absently, “Don’t forget your gloves, you can’t play without your hands.” If Levi had said that a few months ago, I may have thought his comment was brash and insensitive, caring only for my hands as long as they can play. But now I know him better than that, and after the time he took to painstakingly warm my fingers, I know he really cares about _me_ and he’s probably more concerned that I’ll get sick.

“I think they’ll be alright for a few short walks around the city. Especially if I’ve got you to warm them up again.” He scoffs but I can feel his smile against the back of my neck. He kisses me there for a fraction of a beat too long then pulls his arms back and pushes at me.

“Come on, we’ve got work to do.”

“You’re absolutely no fun,” I say with a lighthearted grin as I lift myself off the couch.

“I never claimed to be,” he deadpans. While I grab my violin, Levi disappears into his bedroom briefly to retrieve his. By the time he comes out, I’ve got my case open and I’m running rosin over my bow. “The Christmas stuff is pretty simple. And we’ll get a break about halfway through. I’ve got a harpist to play a couple pieces for that.”

“You know a harpist?”

He looks at me with muted exasperation, “His name’s Farlan. Armin only needs to accompany a couple pieces. I already emailed him the music.” He drags over his music stand to the center of the room and motions for me to join him in front of it, “This is what we’ll need to work on the most.”

He shuffles the music around until he’s satisfied. The music is handwritten on standard staff paper. The notes are neat and clear, but the title is scrawled above everything in some Asian characters that I’m hopeless to read. The pages are a bit confusing with four staves linked for the two violins and the piano and they’re sprawling on the stand, which isn’t big enough to hold all the pages visibly at once.

Levi raises his violin to rest on his shoulder and points with his bow, “It starts with a piano intro.” I nod and go to ready my own violin before I realise I’m standing to Levi’s right, which makes the necks our violins nearly hit, so I quickly move to his other side. Once I’m finally set up, he nods his head slightly to set a moderate tempo and we start.

Well, Levi starts. He’s got our staves marked with our names and mine is rests at first so I follow along with his until I have something to play. It starts low, soft, and pining. I come in slowly, lower than Levi’s notes in harmony. Then a long note leads into the chorus of the song and both of our bows fly over our strings in tandem. He takes the higher melody through the chorus, eyes closed, while I focus all my attention on the sheet music, trying hard to get every note of the harmony.

The chorus falls away and there’s a small piano interlude we count out in mutual silence. The next part is almost a repeat of the chorus, but this time I play the melody. The pace is almost too quick to keep up with since I’m sightreading it, but I manage well enough. Levi takes a lower melody, but occasionally has an embellishment that floats above me.

I don’t pay much attention to how the song feels, I’m too focused on getting the notes and rhythms correct. It’s a shame, because it sounds beautiful, but I’ll allow myself to really listen to what we’re playing after I’ve learned it better. When the songs ends, I hold my position, staring at the music with my bow raised, for a bit too long. When I finally drop my arms and look over, I find Levi watching me.

“What? Was that alright?”

He opens his mouth then snaps it closed again and turns away, “It was… yeah.”

I quirk my head to the side in confusion, “Um, I mean, obviously we need to work on it more, I’ll get it. I’ll work really hard and-”

Levi rounds on my with wide eyes, “No, Eren. Stop. It was great. Really great.”

You'd think I'd be used to Levi's praise by now, or at least not reduced to a sputtering mess by it. But, no. The simple comment has me blushing bright red and shuffling my feet and looking at the floor. I laugh nervously am only able to resist the urge to scratch the back of my neck because my hands are still holding my instrument and bow.

Because I’m still looking down in embarrassment, I don’t notice Levi’s approach until he’s got a finger tilting my chin back up. “Hey, look at me.”

My eyes meet his steely blues and I’m lost in them. He captivates me so easily, so completely. He stares me down for several seconds before speaking again, “I wouldn’t have asked you to play with me if I thought you’d be bad. You’re very good, Eren. I’m…” He glances away for a fraction of a second, “I’m not very good at this.”

“You’re perfect.” As soon as the words are out I try to reel back, but I realise that it’s true. He is perfect. And I can see the slightest dusting of pink on his cheeks and that definitely makes the words more than worth it.

There’s a few more moments of staring at one another before the awkwardness sets in and we back away from each other nearly at the same time. “So, um…” I start, “Should we run it again?”

Levi nods and readies himself.

“Oh, what is this called, anyway? I can’t read whatever language that is.”

He glances at the page, “ _Utsukushiki Zankoku na Sekai_. It’s Japanese, means ‘Beautiful Cruel World.’”

The way his tongue curls over the foreign syllables is so pleasant and musical. It reflects the meaning of the words, bittersweet. “It’s… kind of sad.”

“I guess.” He doesn’t say any more on the matter and counts off an intro and starts playing again.

We play the piece through so many times, I lose count. By the time I collapse into the couch (after having put my violin carefully away in its case), I’m exhausted, but I’m also feeling fantastic. Like I’m on some kind of musical high from the piece. It’s starting to settle into my bones and seep into my soul. It’s a way that music always makes me feel, but never quite to this degree. Unless it’s one of Levi’s pieces. They just sit well in my heart.

Levi rounds the corner from his bedroom where he’d been replacing his violin, “Get your feet off the couch. Are you hungry?”

I swing my feet to the floor with a scowl, “Not really.”

He stares at me with an odd look, “When did you last eat?”

“Uh, dinner last night?”

“You’re eating. I can make sandwiches.” He starts toward the kitchen.

“You don’t need to do that. I’m really not hungry.”

He stops and turns to face me, “Eren. I care about you. For my sanity, you need to take of yourself. In lieu of that, I will. You need to eat.”

“Fine,” I grumble, “But at least let me help.”

“Then get off your ass.”

I scramble up and follow him into the kitchen.

\--

Sandwiches made, and after a glare from Levi, he reluctantly allows us to sit on the couch while we eat. It’s quiet, and I can feel him side eyeing me, watching to make sure I don’t get crumbs all over the place. By now, I’ve gotten used to this kind of thing and I’m very careful.

Once we’ve both finished, Levi takes out plates into the kitchen to wash them. While he’s gone, I look around the room, taking in the Christmas cheer that seems, frankly, at odds with Levi’s personality. The tree is twinkling brightly in the corner, covered in multicoloured lights and sparsely decorated with crystal ornaments. Blue and purple LED lights are strung around the room, outlining the window, balcony door, and adding a comforting and festive light to the space.

All of the decoration almost makes me miss the little instrument propped up in one corner next to the case with Levi’s movies and music. It’s an odd thing, hardly recognisable as an instrument at all save the bow leaning against it. It’s little more than a stick coming out from a little round box with two large tuning pegs.

Levi’s reentrance into the room draws my attention somewhat, “Hey, Levi, what’s that?” I ask, pointing to the odd instrument.

His gaze follows my finger to the corner of the room, “It’s called an _Erhu_. It’s a Chinese instrument.”

“Can you play it?”

He fixes me with an expression I translate to mean something like _‘Why the fuck else would I have it if I couldn’t play it?’_ then moves to pick up the instrument. It isn’t until he picks it up that I realise the bow is not simply resting with the odd instrument, but attached to it somehow. He brings it to the couch and sits next to me, propping it on his left thigh.

Now that I see it up close, I can see the bow hairs are passed between the two lone strings. When Levi readies the instrument, he holds his fingers under the bow strings, keeping them taut. He bows a few times, experimentally, sometimes pulling the bow away from him and sometimes pushing it close. His left hand pressed along the strings to alter the pitch, but without a fretboard, they don’t press _into_ anything.

The sound is fascinating. It’s decidedly Asian, with a distinctive twang to it. It has some similar sounds to a violin as well. It’s sort of like a more metallic sound, almost like this kind of odd marriage between a banjo and a violin. It’s got the metal twang and warble of something like a banjo, but the fluid sound and capacity for gentleness of a violin. It’s very strange, but I really kind of like the sound.

He only plays a few bars before relaxing again and letting the bow rest in his hand. “It’s weird, bowing with my right hand.”

“Why do you?”

“You can’t play these left handed without restringing the instrument.”

“Well, either way,” I start, leaning into him, “it’s beautiful.” I pause, letting my mind wander. Before I can catch myself, I breath out an appendix, “You’re beautiful.”

The way he stiffens beside me concerns me. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. But then he turns his head to peck my forehead before standing and I catch the rosiness on his cheeks just before he turns away to replace the instrument.

“Do you want to watch something?” He asks while he sets the Erhu back in it’s place.

“Um,” I look around the room and settle on the case with his DVDs and Blurays, “Sure. Uh, what are you in the mood for?”

He glances back to me before kneeling in front of the case, “Not sure.” He hums, examining his stock of movies, “Have you ever seen _The Red Violin_?”

“No, I’m not sure I’ve even heard of it.”

His head snaps back around and he looks at me with an incredulous look, “How have you not heard of this movie? How have we gone this long without educating you?”

I raise my eyebrows, “Well, I guess we decided on something to watch, then.”

He mutters something before extracting a case from his collection and queuing it up. “You have to pay attention, a lot of it is subtitled,” he says as he settles into the couch and pulls me into his chest.

“Well, jeez. Didn’t know I’d have to read while I watch a movie,” I joke and Levi slaps me lightly with the remote before pressing play.

The movie is great. Levi was entirely right. It’s this story about a violin that this Italian violin maker made and varnished with his wife’s blood after she died giving childbirth. The movie follows the violin as it passes from hand to hand through the years and how it affects the lives of those who own it. There’s a lot of death and some sex and it’s just a really good movie.

When the end credits roll, I turn my head so I can nuzzle against Levi’s chest, “You were right.”

“I know. And Joshua Bell does all of the soundtracking for the violin music.”

I walk my fingers up his chest and turn my head up to his, “I bet he fucks like the guy in the movie.” Levi hums in acknowledgement and absently runs his fingers up and down my arm. “I’d probably fuck him if he did.”

_That_ gets his attention. His hand freezes and his whole body goes stiff, “Is that what you go for, then? He looks like someone’s dad.”

I chuckle and twist enough to free my hand so I can intertwine our fingers, “Wow, Levi, are you jealous?”

“No, I think you have shit taste. Almost as bad as if you wanted to fuck the asswipe in the movie.”

“Oh, but then what does that say about you?”

He scoffs, “Fuck all.”

I’m quiet for a moment, trying to come up with a response while I relax back into him. Then a brilliant idea crosses my mind and I smile wide, “Have you ever tried it?”

“Tried what?”

“Fucking while playing.”

I feel his head shift above me and he’s quiet for a long moment, “No. That’s disgusting. Wouldn’t want to get jizz all over the instrument.”

I snort loudly and probably unattractively, “That is so like you.”

“Are you complaining? Are you the type to get turned on by that shit? Am I dating a pervert?”

“Ha. No. To all of your questions.” We lapse into silence again, just enjoying one another’s company. The sky outside has long gone dark and the room is only lit up from the Christmas lights, dancing on and off on some timer.

“Can you even imagine spending that much money on an instrument?” I muse. I’m not even really expecting an answer, but Levi does anyway.

“Yes. I have.”

I twist until I can stare at him with wide, incredulous eyes, “What?”

“I bought my concert violin at auction. Got it for 1.3 million.”

The best word I can come up with to describe my reaction is gaping. I _gape_ at him. I can’t even comprehend that much money, much less spending it all on one thing, even an instrument that provides my livelihood. “I ca- how- I wouldn’t even be able to play something worth that much.”

He looks at me oddly, “You already have. Remember? You played my violin a month or so ago.”

My fingers itch with the knowledge that they’ve handled something worth more than a million dollars. My fingers twitch and curl like I’m trying to shake off the memory. “That violin is worth more than I am.”

He frowns at me and his hands find mine, “More than your shit maybe.” He huffs a breath, “Sorry, bad joke. You’re worth far more than any amount of money.”

There’s a sudden warm feeling pooling in my chest and gripping tight on my heart. It’s a feeling I’ve been feeling a lot recently, at random times. Watching Levi play, seeing his name pop up on my phone, when he holds my hand, whenever he grants me the privilege of seeing him smile. No matter what, though, it’s always to do with him. It’s especially bad when he does something like this, throws something so affectionate out like it’s nothing. I can feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Instead of responding, because I’m not sure I can speak without blurting something ridiculous out, I sink into his chest again and bury my face in his shirt to hide my red cheeks.

He shifts and I feel him brush his lips against the top of my head. “Are you staying the night?”

I still don’t trust my voice so I just nod. He hums and lets me hide for a few more moments. Finally, though, he gets impatient and pushes me gently away. “I’m going to go shower. There’s food in the fridge if you want. Or you can join me.”

He gives the offer in the same tone, so off-handedly that I nearly miss the actual meaning of the words. By the time my brain catches up, he’s already disappeared into his bedroom.

We joke a lot, and we both have pretty weird and vulgar senses of humour, but we have yet to actually _do_ anything. I mean, casual rutting if we get a bit heated when we’re making out. Clothes have never come off. And before Levi, I had never even thought of sex. It was just a distant concept at the back of my mind, far overshadowed by my aspirations as a musician.

But now, after five months of an actual relationship, the thought has been creeping to the forefront of my mind more and more frequently. It’s not like we haven’t talked about it—we have. But I’ve never felt comfortable taking it any further. And Levi has respected that. I’m sure that if I go in there now and only want to shower, he’d be fine with it. In fact, that’s probably the most he was expecting when he put out the offer.

Sitting here thinking, though, I’m starting to lose the chance to choose one way or the other. So, I steel myself, take a deep breath, and clamber toward the bedroom.

Levi’s bedroom isn’t anything particularly special, and I’ve been in here several times before. He’s got a (very comfortable) queen sized bed with it’s head flush against the left wall and a dresser opposite the foot of the bed on the right wall, next to the closet. The door from the rest of the apartment is on the same wall as the door to the bathroom, which is closed but I’m sure it’s not locked. Opposite that wall is a window staring directly at the next building, as per usual here in New York City.

I can hear the water turn on as I grab a towel from the dresser and quickly shed my clothes, folding them into a neat pile to put in my bag later. Once I have the towel wrapped safely around my waist, I knock lightly at the door, “Levi?”

“Come in.”

I turn the knob and push open the door slowly. It looks like I’ve caught him just before he was going to get in, because his towel is hanging on the rack and he’s stark naked. He glances to me but quickly looks away and opens the glass shower door, holding it open for me, “After you.”

I keep my eyes trained on the tile floor as I walk to the towel rack and pull the towel from around me, baring myself to the steamy air. My movements are stiff as I walk to where Levi is still holding the door open. I manage to glance up at him, mostly to ensure I don’t trip on my way into the shower, and catch his eyes widen infinitesimally while they rove over me. My face heats immediately at the attention and I duck into the shower.

The water is warm, but not as hot as I’m used to showering in. I hear Levi shut the shower door behind him after he follows me in. The shower is another place I’m very familiar with, but not in exactly this context. It’s always felt a bit too large in the past, but it’s perfect with two of us sharing the space.

A light touch on the small of my back makes me jump in surprise, causing Levi to pull back his hand and mutter an apology. When I turn to face him, he’s turned around and fiddling with the soap. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do, so I just sort of stand there awkwardly until he passes a lathered loofah back to me.

I take it and start running it over my front slowly, self-conscious despite the fact that he still hasn’t turned around. It strikes me as somewhat odd that he keeps himself facing away from me as he runs his own loofah over his body. By the time my front is covered in foamy bubbles, it occurs to me that he’s probably trying to respect my boundaries, thinking that my jump at his touch earlier meant that I didn’t _want_ him to touch me.

“Hey, Levi?”

He turns his head a little and hums to indicate he’s heard me, but still doesn’t actually _look_ at me.

“Will you get my back for me?”

I hold out my loofah to him as he turns, eyes wide in surprise. It takes him only a fraction of a second to collect himself and take the loofah, giving me a look that asks me if I’m sure I’m alright with this. I nod and turn my back to him.

The first touch makes me flinch, but only because I’m not expecting it in the center of my back. Levi pulls back immediately, but continues when I look back over my shoulder in reassurance. His touch is gentle, far more gentle than I am for my own self. He carefully laves the loofah over my entire back, coming up over my shoulders, in his very careful way. It’s sensual, but not sexual, and I close my eyes to just enjoy the feel of it.

Eventually, the loofah falls away from my skin and I sigh deeply before turning around. I look down and meet his eyes, finding them hooded with pupils blown. Tentatively, I lift a hand and run it gently through the suds on his chest. His eyes fall shut and he makes a sound so quiet I barely hear it over the sound of the water pounding against the tiles.

I take a step closer, so we’re nearly chest to chest, and cup his cheek to pull him up into a kiss while my other hand finds purchase in his shoulder. He responds in kind, his fingers alighting on my hips. I’m not sure how long we stay like this, standing just outside of the water’s reach with soap suds running down our damp bodies. At some point, Levi’s hands start moving along my skin, leaving a trail of nearly unbearable heat. He maps my sides with a careful, slow reverence.

He pulls back from our kiss breathlessly, “You’re so beautiful.”

Normally when he says something like that, it sends me into an embarrassed fit in which I hide and sputter out some half-assed gratitude. But not this time. This time it just warms my chest and sends electric shocks through my body. His hands move to my back and rove over the expanse. He puts a light pressure into me and pulls me flush against him. I can feel him half hard pressed up against my thigh and I know I’m not any better off.

A few awkward steps take us under the spray of the shower head. The warm water feels even hotter now, though I know it can’t be. It quickly washes away the soap from our bodies as Levi massages his fingers into my lower back, my shoulder blades, up my shoulders. I let myself explore his shoulders and upper arms and chest with tentative touches, never breaking eye contact with him.

My right hand caresses along his neck, “Levi, I- Can I… Can I touch you?”

He smirks, “You are touching me,” he doesn’t even give me time to react to the comment, “Yes, Eren. Please.”

My breath hitches and he leans his forehead into my neck while my hand trails downward, his hands never stop moving on me now focused on my chest. The tips of my fingers barely brush against his cock and it makes him shudder. I’m fascinated by the effect I have on him, so I test it further and wrap my fingers around him for an experimental stroke.

“Mmph,” Levi moans into my neck and starts mouth at my pulse there. His hands move lower, fingers splayed out wide until they move to my back again then run down to my ass. He squeezes gently, “God, Eren, you’re so perfect. So goddamn good. Nggh, can I touch you?”

“Y- _yes_.”

I’ve had some experience with my own hand, you don’t get to be a twenty-one year-old guy without it, but when Levi’s hand wraps around me it’s a whole new experience. I can’t hold back a throaty groan and my hand loses what semblance of a rhythm I had managed to accomplish on him. My knees feel weak and I’m already rock hard.

“Levi, I’m gonna… Ah, gonna come if you keep that up.”

He hums, the sound laced with heady pleasure, and gives my cock a few more strokes before returning both of his hands to my backside. One of his fingers dips into the cleft and a violent shudder wracks my body and my head falls into the crook of his neck. He pulls my cheeks apart a bit and his finger dips a little lower, closer to my entrance.

I feel Levi’s breath at my ear and feel him speak more than hear him, but the words are clear nonetheless, “Is this okay?”

My breath hitches and I take a moment to step back. I lift my head and look at him. He searches my face and then his touch moves up to my shoulders, “Eren.”

I’m not sure what to do with my hands, so I let them settle on his hips. I almost manage to conceal the slight quiver in them. “Yeah?” I breathe, my voice hitching slightly.

“You don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” His left hand runs through my dripping hair and his fingers catch in the wet tangles. “Your comfort matters exponentially more to me than sex. I don’t want you to feel scared or coerced, I want you to do this when _you_ want to. And if that’s never, then that is alright.”

He leans up for a gentle kiss and runs his hands down my arms and takes my hands, “I, um. I- thank you. But I do. Want to, I mean. I’m just… nervous. Sex is… weird to me. But with you, with you it makes more sense. It feels… right isn’t the word I want. Natural? I guess…”

He squeezes my hands, “How about we finish washing up, and we’ll see where it goes.”

I nod and he drops my hands to grab the shampoo and squeeze a dollop on his hand. He lathers the liquid between his hands then reaches up to work it through my hair. The pads of his fingers massage pleasantly into my scalp and I sigh deeply and sag a bit until he pushes me back under the water. I rinse my hair myself and Levi goes to dispense more shampoo into his hand. “Hey, let me.”

He fixes me with an unreadable look but holds out the bottle to me. “Don’t scratch me.”

“I’ll be careful.” I put a dab of shampoo in my hand, probably far more than necessary, before setting down the bottle haphazardly. I step out of the spray to where Levi is standing while I spread the shampoo between my hands. No time is wasted when I reach him, immediately running my hands through his silky hair. Even wet, it feels soft and slides through my hands easily. Levi’s eyes slide shut and he makes a small sound at the way I massage gently into his roots and over the short hairs of his undercut.

Finished, I pull him back under the water so I can rinse the soap from his hair. At one point, I push all of his hair back off his forehead and it stays like that for just a moment before the water weighs it back down again, “You should wear your hair like that sometimes, pushed back. It’s hot.”

“Tch,” He pushes his hands back through my hair in some attempt to tame the messy locks into submission, “I bet you could pull it off better than me. We’d have to force your hair to behave first.”

I laugh, loud and throaty, with just a touch of a darker desire curling at the edges, “Good luck with that. Mom’s been trying for _years_.”

“Fuck, Eren. Don’t mention your mother when we’re standing here naked.”

I giggle again, lighter this time, then an idea sparks, “Why not? Planning on doing something she wouldn’t approve of?” I press myself back close into him, a fire igniting in my abdomen.

He _growls_ , grabbing my hips and pulling me close for a bruising kiss. I respond in kind and revel at the way his passion makes me _feel_.

One of his hands disappears from me for a time, then returns with something held in it. He pulls back from me, only to lean in and nip at my ear. I exhale a heavy, shaky breath while he whispers in my ear, “Have you fingered yourself before?”

My brain function halts with an almost literal _ker-chunk_. I think my body freezes and I’m not really aware of anything for a time that feels like long minutes, but is probably no longer than a few seconds. When I do manage to come to enough to move, Levi’s pulled back some with a worried expression, “Are you alright? We can stop.”

“No!” I blurt, and by the way Levi recoils slightly I say it much too loudly, “No, I just… wasn’t expecting that. At all. Um, yes? Only one finger though.”

Levi watches me for a long moment and looks like he’s searching for any ounce of uncertainty that this isn’t what I want. I appreciate how much he cares so much. He may seem like a brash, uncaring, and sometimes downright mean person to most, but when it really matters, he’s really a wonderful person. He doesn’t always know how to express himself, but he’s always careful with me, gentle and… loving.

Wow.

In my distraction, I miss him opening the bottle he’s holding. I can’t for the life of me remember when he’d managed to pick that up. I watch him squeeze a generous amount on his fingers and spread it around. “Turn around and brace yourself on the wall and _relax_. And tell me if _anything_ hurts. It shouldn’t hurt. It should feel good.”

My eyes widen and I just kind of stare at him. It isn’t until he cocks a brow at me in amusement that I realise I’m meant to be moving and scramble to do as he said. I glance over my shoulder once I’ve got my hands pressed up against cool tiles and watch him appraise me as he makes his way closer.

His clean hand reaches out to my shoulder blade, running gently down my back with something approaching _reverence_ , until it settles on the small of my back and his other hand comes up to tease at my entrance. His foot comes to tap against mine to urge me to spread my legs further and I comply easily.

I can feel his heated breath on the back of my neck, which sends anticipatory shudders down my spine, when he leans into me, “Ready?”

I swallow hard and the hand on my hip moves to my front to grip my cock and pump with an easy rhythm, “Yeah.”

“Breathe, Eren.”

It’s weird, the way his finger slips so easily into me. I definitely expected it to hurt at least a little. It did when I tried it myself. But, instead, it just feels… weird. And good. Definitely good. He sinks the finger down to his second knuckle slowly and carefully then pulls it back again until only the tip remains.

After a short pause, his finger dips in again, this time further and it drags a long, low sound from somewhere in my chest. Then he twists his hand while he drags it back again and I gasp and let my head drop between my arms.

“Are you alright?” Levi asks me, voice dripping with concern as his hands both still in their ministrations.

“ _Yes_. Don’t stop.”

I could look over my shoulder to see the way he smirks at my desperation, but I don’t need to. I already _know_ he’s smirking at me. I already _know_ he’s stupidly pleased at how wreaked I am already.

“Whatever you say, Eren.” His voice is low, dangerous, _fucking seductive_. He purrs my name and it sounds so sweet in my ears. Better than a symphony, better than the sound of Levi’s playing, better than any music I’ve heard. It roots me to the spot and when both his hands start moving simultaneously, one on my cock and one fingerfucking my hole, he draws plaintive whines and moans from me and it makes me soar. I get lost in it.

It doesn’t take too terribly long before his solitary finger is definitely not enough. “Lev-Levi. I nee-need…” My voice doesn’t seem to want to work or form actual sentences so I can’t get out the words.

“Yes, Eren? What do you need?” The hand on my cock squeezes a little and his thumb teases the sensitive head, sending me reeling and making my brain short-circuit.

“I… Ah- _more!_ ” I practically scream.

He chuckles darkly and pulls his hand back, teasing the edges of my hole with a second finger. The sound gets louder when I wiggle back into him, urging him on. Then I feel the pressure of both fingers sliding easily into me with only a hint of uncomfortable pressure. Any discomfort is quickly forgotten when he breathes into my ear, “You’re so fucking tight, Eren. Feels so good.”

Occasionally he lets loose a deep, low moan and it makes my eyes roll back into my head. He sets a moderate pace, scissoring his fingers and working me open and I’m just rutting mindlessly back into him, practically begging for more.

Then something happens.

It’s the barest of adjustment in the way he pushes in his fingers, just a little additional curl, and I see _stars_. Or more like I _hear_ them. My senses get all confused and I don’t know the difference between hearing and feeling and seeing and tasting. It all seems like the meld together into one intense, outrageous sensation and I nearly collapse from the force of it. I may have were it not for Levi’s strong arm wrapped around my waist as my knees buckle dangerously.

I throw my head back and let loose something between a shout and a scream as he brushes passed the same spot a second time. I feel his lips on my back, mouthing across my skin, teeth digging gently into me in stuttering patterns.

Before he has the grand idea of attempting to render me entirely useless for a third time, I manage to pant out, “What the _fuck_ was that?”

“D’ya like that?”

He moves his hand again and I groan as his prods against the spot yet again, trying desperately to keep myself standing. “Fuck, _yeah._ ”

His lips move against my skin and form a smirk before he picks his pace back up and brushes that little spot inside me over and over and over and over…

I’m not really aware of much for a while. I don’t know how much longer this goes on for, but I do know every second of it is fucking _bliss_. I’m vaguely aware of the racket I’m making with my moans and cries and slightly more aware of the responses I’m getting from Levi.

I think I manage to choke out some kind of warning, but I’m not sure. The next thing I’m really aware of is the blurry sight of my come splattering the tile wall in front of me and Levi’s hand working me through my orgasm. I sag as his fingers leave me and I feel empty. He takes both of his arms and wraps them around me, turning me around and pulling me against his chest before he guides both of us to sit on the tile floor of the shower.

He runs his hands over me, caressing my arms, shoulders, and face. Running his hands through my hair. He leans into me to kiss my forehead, cheek, jaw line, and finally places a soft kiss against my lips. “Hey, how are you doing?”

I lean my forehead into his, letting him support my boneless body, “Fucking _fantastic._ ” I shift a little so I can wrap my legs around his waist as we sit there and just hold one another, “What about you?”

Levi pulls me impossibly closer, “Do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Care too much about anyone else but yourself.”

I open my eyes and stare into his, “I guess?”

He chuckles into my neck and the shift in his body makes him press closer and it’s now that I realise he’s outrageously hard, standing proudly between our bodies, heavy and dripping.

“The water’s getting cold.”

His words barely register in my mind because my eyes are focused intently on his cock, just begging for attention.

“Oi, Eren? Are you sure you’re alright?”

My eyes flick up to meet his, “Hmm? Yeah. Um, D’yo- Do you want me to, uh, take care of that?” I look back down, motioning to his erection.

He looks down, “You don’t have to. Only if you want. But we should get out of here, I’m starting to get pruny and my gas bill is going to be astronomical.”

“Whose fault is that?”

He glares and pats my legs to tell me to get up. We make quick work of the rest of the shower and hurry out. We towel dry ourselves haphazardly and don’t even bother putting on clothes before we’re falling into the bed and tangling ourselves together.

Soft easy kisses turn heated in no time. Before I really know what’s happening, I’m half hard again and Levi’s grinding lazily into my thigh. Both of our hands wander and trace lazy, languid patterns in each other’s skin.

It’s slow and careful, the way he works me open again, has me begging for _him_.

It’s messy and silly, when we finally join together as one and I can’t stop giggling. He tries to put up a show of exasperation, but I can feel the way his chest moves with his suppressed chuckles with the way we’re pressed up against one another. In one another.

It’s almost like falling, the way he builds me up so carefully and we come down together, joined. Like everything up to now was working toward this point and then I realise that there’s so much _more_ yet to come.

We fall asleep curling in one another with whispers of affection tracing the lines of our bodies and filling the air. Even though it’s never said explicitly, I can feel it in the way his breath ghosts over my hair, the way his fingers graze over my arm, the way hip lips try to kiss every inch of me. And I return it with touch, breath, sweet nothings.

_Love._

\--

“Any more critiques?” Erwin asks the group of Survey Agency members gathered in the first several rows of the theater. No one speaks up, having already made their comments about the piece Jean had played. After a few moments of silence, Erwin claps his hands together, “Alright, don’t forget about our upcoming performances and those of you auditioning soon, practice hard and good luck!”

At the dismissal, the cacophony of people moving and packing up instruments and sheet music fills the air. When I don’t move with the rest of them, Mikasa tugs at my shirt sleeve.

“I’m gonna hang back a sec, I need to talk to Erwin. Go on ahead without me. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Annie’s already halfway out of the hall and Armin glances back at me with a knowing smile, hand in hand with her. He nods and lets Annie continue to pull him away.

“See you, then,” Mikasa murmurs before turning to hurry after the blond couple.

Once everyone has left and the room is quiet, I stand and walk over to the stage where Erwin is shuffling around papers in his folder. “Um, Erwin?”

He turns to face me with his brilliant smile that could end wars. Or start them. “Eren! What can I do for you?”

“Um, well. I wanted to ask you… Since you’ve known Levi for so long…” He cocks an eyebrow, but waits patiently for me to finish, “I have no idea what to get him for Christmas. Or his birthday.”

Erwin’s smile widens, “I’m assuming since you made the distinction that you plan on getting him two.” I nod. “Well, there’s no denying that Levi is… a difficult man to shop for. I usually just go for a bottle of wine and a promise to leave him to his devices.”

This was not exactly what I wanted to hear, but also not unexpected. Levi is definitely shrouded in mystery, even after nearly six months together. I must sag or be visibly disappointed because Erwin is quick to clap a hand to my shoulder gently, “Eren. It’s obvious how much you care. I’m sure he’ll love anything you get him. If you want my advice… Don’t shop for him. Just go out and look around. It’ll come to you.”

It’s not really advice. Not much of it anyway. But it does seem to be the best I’ll get. Erwin’s already turning back to his folder and I’m still feeling pretty lost on the whole subject. I gather my things and start to walk out, stuck deep in my own head.

When I get back to the apartment, Mikasa is sitting on the couch with headphones in watching her phone screen intently. Something is cooking on the stove, and by the looks of the empty box sitting next to the skillet, it’s hamburger helper. I head off to my room to put down my things. It still feels weird, being alone in the room, now Armin’s gone. It feels a bit too big. Maybe I should get a bigger bed to fill the space some.

Mikasa pulls out an earbud when I plop down on the couch next to her, “What did you need to talk to Erwin about?”

“Trying to get ideas for what to get Levi for his birthday and Christmas.”

She raises a brow, “Just get him some Windex or something. I’m sure he’d be thrilled.”

“Mikasa!” I punch her with more force than is normally accepted to be affectionate, but for her it’s hardly a tickle.

She chuckles, “Sorry, sorry. I’m sure he’ll love whatever you get him. We can go shopping and look for something tomorrow if you’d like.”

I smile genuinely, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

\--

“Let’s go to Time’s Square, there’s plenty of places to shop around there.” Mikasa’s bundled up with her signature red scarf wrapped around her neck so it covers the lower half of her face.

I glance around the street filled with the Christmas crowd in addition to the regular New York foot traffic, “Sure, that’s a good a place as any to start.”

It’s not an easy walk, the sidewalks absolutely crawling with people doing last minute Christmas shopping or just general visiting on the Saturday before Christmas. Mikasa keeps close, arm encircled in mine to keep us from being separated. And Times Square is certainly no better. There are tourists taking pictures, people with shopping bags, street vendors calling out to sell whatever they have. It’s wild and crazy, and I have to admit I sort of enjoy the music of it.

It’s like a concert. Individuals from different backgrounds and different specialties coming together in one place. There’s instruments in the way people walk, talk, laugh. The way the cars sound when they speed by, honk, screech to a halt. It’s the grand crescendo of the finale of the concert, but it’s happening every second of every day.

I’ve grown to really enjoy New York City.

Mikasa drags me into a music store, knocking me out of my internal conducting. She releases me after we’ve feel a rush of warm air and get off of the freezing cold street with a vague hand motion that indicates she’s going to browse. I set off in another direction, glancing through the collection of CDs on my way through.

I don’t really go through the store with any kind of goal in mind. Music stores are always a source of peace for me. It’s nice to see the fruits of so many other artists’ labours paying off in some way. It’s hopeful, I guess.

It’s weirdly unassuming and I pass by it several times before I really notice it. It’s buried under stacks of CDs and records and posters, but there’s a little sign with a price. I spend several minutes just trying to clear everything from on top of it, but when I finally do, I can’t take my eyes off of it.

The turntable is really simplistic in design. It just looks like a cross section from a tree with the turntable on top, off center. I never thought a record player would make a good gift for someone like Levi, someone who has the world behind him if he wanted it. If he wanted a record player, he easily could buy one himself. But this is unique, it’s special. And it is so incredibly _Levi_. Even if no one else would see it. He would. And I can.

I don’t even care about the price, I just lug it up toward the counter before I can even consider stopping myself. Mikasa approaches me as I’m being handed the receipt from the little wisp of a guy behind the counter.

“Find something?”

“Yeah, one thing. We should go stop by the apartment so I can drop it off.”

She nods and follows behind me as we leave the store.

Walking down the street with Levi’s present in hand makes me jumpy. There are too many people and I’m nervous about breaking it. So when someone bumps into my side as we’re passing the Rockefeller center, I whip my head around to glare at the guy.

And that’s when I see it.

I’ve never spared more than a second glance at the Swarovski store. It’s expensive, high class, and not even remotely in my taste. But something about the way the window display sparkles catches my eye. I don’t realise I’ve stopped until Mikasa jerks at my arm because she’s tried to continue walking.

“Why’d you stop?” she asks, a twinge of concern laced in her voice.

“Let’s go in here.”

She looks at me oddly, but follows when I start to walk toward the entrance. I make a beeline toward the ornament I’d seen in the window while holding the record player close to my body, terrified I’ll bump into something and break it. The store sets me even more on edge than the street had. I feel like an ox in a china shop. I almost am, I guess. I’m definitely a bit boorish and with all the fragile crystal around, this is essentially a china shop.

The ornament I’d been fixated on is a little thing, shimmering in the window with the afternoon sun. It’s a hummingbird with a body of clear crystal that fades into a deep green then transitions into a tealish blue. It looks like freedom to me, fragile but also beautiful and strong, ready to fly away. And the colour, it looks like my eyes. It may seem vain of me to say so, but it’s always been one of my defining features and I know Levi is partial to them. And a voice in the back of my head reminds me of his words from a couple weeks ago.

_‘I like Christmas, I like this tree, and I like you.’_

“It’s perfect.”

Mikasa stands next to me and glances over with a raised eyebrow, but doesn’t comment. I reach forward with my free hand, mindful of the turntable still under my arm. The little string it’s hung by is delicate and my hands feel too big when I grasp it to take it from the display. I let the ornament spin and watch the way the colours dance as it catches the sun. I’m mesmorised by the light reflecting around the space.

“Are you buying it?” Mikasa’s voice jostles me.

“Yeah," I murmur absently, still staring at the glimmer off its wings.

I don’t even notice the price. It doesn’t matter, really. I hand over my debit card without paying attention to the little number on the screen. I’ll manage, but this is more important.

The attendant packages it in a lovely box and Mikasa takes it for me so I can focus on keeping the turntable safe.

Pleased with my purchases, and since Mikasa had finished her shopping weeks ago, we head home. I smile with a childlike glee the whole way back, now more excited than ever for Christmas to come. 

\--

“You look like you’re going to shit your pants.”

I feel like I’m going to, to be quite honest. Levi and I are standing together in the dark wing of the little theater Levi had gotten for our performance. I don’t normally get terribly nervous for concerts, maybe a little, but it’s always manageable. But something about this one is setting me on edge and I feel like I can’t move or I’ll just fall.

“Oi, Eren. What’s up with you?”

My head turns to him, picking out his shadowed features with his immaculate hair (brushed back a little and I can’t help the way my heart pounds a little harder at that) and beautiful tux. I open my mouth, but no words come out in response.

He watches me, then turns away and sets his _1.3 million dollar_ violin down on a nearby chair before approaching me. “Hey, calm down. You have nothing to be nervous about. It’s just a show.”

It’s not just a show though. It’s a show where I’m _playing with Levi_. Other people are going to watch us and judge us. I’ve never cared about what people thought of my playing beyond whether or not it was good enough to get somewhere, and I’m not entirely sure why this is so different. But it is. My hands are cold and clammy with it, my stomach in painful, sickening knots.

“Eren,” his voice is low, deep, and calming, whispered directly into my ear. It forces a gasp, which gives me just the push to start breathing again. I hadn’t realised I had stopped. “I’ll be right there with you, the whole time. Just watch me, don’t worry about them.”

Even though he’s just leaning in close in front of me, the way he speaks, the timbre of his voice, is all encompassing. It forms this shroud around me that calms my nerves and takes me out of myself. It brings me back to sitting alone together in his apartment, sharing comfortable space.

“Thank you,” I whisper, barely more than a breath.

He backs off from me, searching my eyes again. The tiny twitch of his lips is all I really need to see, “Are you ready?”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, then nod, determination coursing through me. This concert is important to Levi. It’s important to me. And I’ll do everything in my power to make it perfect.

He retrieves his instrument again then waits for the Master of Ceremonies to finish the introductions for the night. Levi had written my bio for the program and for the MC and I hadn’t seen it. It’s almost clinical, but laced with pride and reverence and it makes it sound like I’m far more accomplished than I actually am. I hope my face isn’t too red when we go out on stage.

“And now, let me present Levi Ackerman and Eren Jaeger!” The MC says in her excited voice, with a hand held out toward the wing we’re still hiding in. I follow Levi out onto the stage to the sound of thundering applause. I spare a glance to the audience and see the house is _packed_. My heartbeat picks up again and I can feel the panic rising again. But just as it’s about to send me into a quivering, comatose mess, Levi stops and turns to me, readying his violin under his chin.

His calm countenance and blank face remind me where I am and the way his eyes soften when he glances up at me sets me at ease. I offer him a small smile then mimic his position, creating a perfect mirror image in our stance. We stare at one another, a silent conversation sparking between us: words of encouragement, synchronising our bodies, pouring love through our gazes.

And then it starts.

We open with Away in a Manger and for a few notes we’re a fraction of a second off from one another but we quickly repair it and then we play in perfect synchronicity. Levi’s eyes slide shut frequently, losing himself in his playing and I lose myself in him. He’s absolutely stunning, the way his body sways with the music and his whole self is lost in it. His fingers dance over the strings as he drags his bow back and forth and it’s so easy for me to forget that there are hundreds of people watching us play. Because this is for us, we’re playing for each other, no one else matters.

The first half is just the two of us playing various pieces of Christmas music. After each piece, we stop staring at one another long enough to turn and bow to our audience then start the next one. After about twenty minutes of this, we take one more bow and leave the stage. The MC comes back out and introduces Farlan, who rolls his harp up to the center of the stage for his part of the show.

Once we make it back behind the curtain in the wing, Levi rounds on me and grips the back of my head for a bruising kiss. When we part, I look down at him with an undoubtedly dopey smile plastered on my face, “You were incredible,” I whisper to him.

“Show’s not over yet. Sit down, take a break.”

We take our seats in the wing and listen in mutual silence to Farlan’s harp playing. He’s quite good and the music he’s chosen is lovely to listen to. Isabel, the MC, is sitting in another nearby chair and watching him attentively, occasionally glancing back at Levi with a wide smile plastered on her lips. From what Levi told me, Isabel and Farlan are friends of his from his childhood and he’s kept in touch with them over the years, even though they travel together a lot, so they don’t live nearby. I have no idea if they know about us, but considering the way Isabel keeps eyeing me, I’d say he’s probably mentioned that we’re together.

Farlan stands after his final notes and bows to applause from the audience. He wheels his harp back out of the way again and once the stage is clear, Levi and I walk out again. This time, though, Armin joins us from the other side of the stage and takes a seat at the piano. He looks great, with his hair tied half up and dressed in a tux Annie had helped him pick out several months ago when he started getting consistent jobs.

The second half of the show starts off with The Prayer, a song my mother used to play around the house when I was younger. Armin accompanies and Levi starts the piece off on his own. I join in later and we begin our harmony and I don’t even give a second thought to the people watching. This part of the program is short, and has less actual Christmas music and more music that just has the same kind of tone to it.

Finally, we reach the final number. To my surprise, Levi motions for me to wait while he approaches one of the microphones.

“Good evening. Mr. Jaeger and I would like to thank you all for coming to this performance. If I may, I’d also like to take this time to thank Mr. Arlert for providing his exceptional accompaniment.” There is polite applause and Armin stands for a tiny bow as Levi hold his arm out toward him. When the applause dies again, he returns to his speech, “Our final number for this evening is one of my own, debuting its first public performance. Without further ado, _Utsukushiki Zankoku na Sekai._ ”

He backs away again and resets his instrument before nodding to Armin. Then he starts playing.

We’ve run this song so many times in the last two weeks, once we had Armin’s full attention to work with us. And still, I’m not prepared for quite how it sounds in the hall with people in the audience to contribute to the electric energy of the room. The notes sound ethereal; a soft rain in the early hours of the morning, just before the sun breaks the horizon. Armin has always been phenomenal in his playing, but tonight it just sinks in to my pores down to my very soul.

Levi looks so gorgeous, playing opposite me. This time, even though he’s focused on his playing, and doing it perfectly, he keeps his eyes opened and locked with mine. We play with a fluidity I never thought was possible between two people. We move together, breathe together, and I’d be willing to bet our hearts beat together.

Before I know it, it’s just over. There’s silence and it’s nearly suffocating, but I’m riding on such a high and Levi’s still staring straight into me so I don’t even notice the long moments of quiet followed by the painfully deafening applause. If there weren’t expensive and highly prized instruments between us, I would’ve already crashed into him, regardless of the people watching.

It isn’t until Levi tears his gaze from mine and turns to bow that I finally have reality slammed into me like a freight truck. I turn and see people standing in their seats, still applauding enthusiastically. Isabel and Farlan have come out on stage and Armin has come to stand up with us. All of us bow together and Levi takes the hand I’m not holding both my violin and bow in and squeezes. Then we all walk off to the wings and the applause never once lets up.

On our way passed the curtain, I lean in close to Levi, “You know that’s going to be all over the blogs, us holding hands.”

“And?” He smirk and I straighten with a self-satisfied smile.

Once everyone is gathered in the wing and someone flicks on the backstage lights, Isabel practically attacks us, throwing her arms around both of us as best she can, “That was great, Big Bro!”

“Big bro?” I ask, still caught in her attempt at an embrace.

Levi scoffs, “You’re going to suffocate us, Izzy.” She releases us and takes a step back, brilliant smile under brilliant eyes almost the same shade of green as my own.

“We have to celebrate! Let’s get everyone together and go out somewhere!”

“Izzy, it’s the Monday before Christmas. It’s a shit time to go out, especially in the city.”

Farlan comes up and leans his arms on Isabel’s shoulders, “Aw don’t be such a buzzkill, boss. Let’s go celebrate. There’s a place not too far that should be good.”

“How do you even know that? You don’t live here.”

Levi continues bantering with Isabel and Farlan, a new kind of spark and _playfulness_ in his voice that makes me smile. But the way he never once loosens his grip on my hand warms my whole being to the very center.

Armin hovers nearby, looking pleased with himself but far too humble to try to join in on the excited party planning by Isabel and Farlan. Eventually, after our instruments are back in cases and in lockers Levi assures are safe, we migrate out of the backstage area and out to the lobby, where our friends in the audience are waiting. The entirety of Survey Agency stayed long enough to congratulate us on the performance, at which point most of them leave. Even Hanji and Mike are here, and they stay when Isabel starts trying to get people to join in on the ‘after party.’

All in all, we end up with ten people walking in pairs or trios down the crowded streets of the city toward some bar that Farlan swears is perfect. It’s friends and excitement, and I’m still riding the waves of euphoria from the show. Levi’s hand is still in mine (although now there are layers of gloves between us) and I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling since I stepped off the stage.

Levi slows us down so we lag behind a small distance from the rest of the group, still following, but slower and a bit more privately. It quiet for a long time, only the sounds of the city and Hanji and Isabel’s manic yelling to one another somewhere up ahead between us.

Then Levi breaks the silence, “Move in with me.”

I stop dead, not entirely sure I’ve heard him correctly. I spin toward him and nearly drop his hand from the shock, but he catches my other hand and holds both as he looks up at me. “What?” I ask dumbly.

“Move in with me.”

I can’t even begin to figure out how I should respond, “I- _what?_ ”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eren, I don’t like repeating myself,” the way his eyes sparkle, though, indicates he’s enjoying this on some level. Enjoying my complete dumbfoundedness.

“I don’t… I- But what about Mikas-”

“I already talked to her. She’ll be glad for the space to herself. Your apartment isn’t that big, and she can more than afford it.”

“What, did you talk to my mom, too?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point.”

I huff a breath of exasperated amusement. He’s thought of everything, hasn’t he? Somewhere in the back of my mind I’m vaguely aware of the fact that our group of friends has continued on without us and left us in the dust. But my head is still buzzing with the sudden proposal, “I, um- okay.”

He raises himself up enough to kiss me, “Then let’s go home.”

I cock my head, “But what about everyone else? The bar? They’re celebrating for us, it’d be rude not to go.”

He pulls one hand from me and digs into his pocket for his phone. He types something out, surprisingly quickly for a one-handed text and spends the time waiting for a response from whoever he’d texted by kissing me. He pulls away when his phone vibrates, taking only a second to read it, “All taken care of. They won’t miss us.”

And as much as I enjoy being with our friends and celebrating a really fantastic night, going home with Levi suddenly feels like a much better idea. “Okay. Let’s go home.”

\--

On Christmas Eve I wake up with a familiar warmth wrapped around my waist and tangled with my legs. It must still be pretty early if Levi’s still in bed. I take a deep breath and turn carefully in his arms so I can bury my face in his chest. He makes a rumbling sound I feel through his chest and mumbles something unintelligible.

“Morning,” I mutter, not sure if he’s even awake enough to hear me.

“Mmm, why are you awake?” His voice is thick and groggy and his arms tighten around me

“Dunno, we can go back to sleep.”

“Wha’ time ‘s it?”

I can’t stop myself from smiling into his chest at how _cute_ he is half-sleep. It takes some contortionism for me to crane my neck enough to see the clock without jostling Levi too much, but I manage, “Little passed eight. We’ve got hours yet before we need to be at the theater.”

“Good.” He tightens his hold on me again and I feel his breathing even out almost immediately.

\--

We walk into the theater to the sound of a cacophony of instruments playing different Christmas carols all at the same time and some attempts at trying to sing along. We’re a bit late, so everyone else is already here and well into the Christmas party Erwin had set up. Everyone from the agency is here, plus Hanji, Mike, Petra and the rest of the Special Ops Quartet, even Nanaba and Levi’s friends are here.

“This is going to be even worse with all these extra brats around.”

If he didn’t have a near giddy smirk on his face, I would’ve believed the words at face value, but he does, so I know he’s actually very excited about all of the Christmas cheer.

“Levi! Eren!” Hanji calls loudly from the stage, where they’re perched precariously on a ladder attempting to place a tree topper on the massive Christmas tree set up on stage right. A person I don’t recognise is staring up at them with the most terrified expression trying desperately to get them to pay attention to what they’re doing.

“Hanji, you’re going to give Moblit a heart attack and that’s not a very good Christmas present.”

Hanji looks down to the person, practically sweating in his fear for their safety, “Aww, Moblit. I’m fine! Just need… to…” they manage to get the tree topper in place, “There! All set!” They climb down, with no regard for the way the man, Moblit apparently, is trying to help them. By the time their safely on the stage again, Levi and I have managed to make our way down to the edge of the stage.

“You are a menace to society,” Levi comments.

Hanji grins, “This is a more or less accurate assessment, yes.”

I laugh, but leave them to their conversation and instead jump up on stage to put my gifts under the tree then say hello to Mikasa who is sitting with a smirk in a chair on stage watching some of our friends contributing to the noisy mess of Christmas music.

“You’re late,” she mentions with a raised eyebrow when I pull up a chair next to her.

I think back to the last couple hours and smile to myself, “Yeah.”

“Ew, please don’t look like that. I don’t want to picture whatever you were doing.”

I punch her, “Mikasa!”

She waves me off, “Shhh, they’re just getting to the good part.”

I watch the group of Jean, Connie, Sasha, Reiner, and Ymir all playing their instruments while Marco and Christa attempt to sing along to all of the songs, at least three by my count, that are going on at once. Annie, Bert, and Armin are sitting off a ways from where Mikasa and I are cringing at the mess of sound assaulting us all and Annie is speaking some fast paced Russian to Bert and occasionally yelling at Reiner.

“There is no good part, Mikasa.”

She turns to me slightly with a mischievous glint in her eye, “ _That’s_ the good part.”

“Sometimes, I still don’t understand you.”

She watches the show intently for a few more minutes, until there’s a pause in the sound before they start a slightly more organised rendition of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Then she leans into me, “Look over there.”

I follow her pointing finger to where Isabel, Erwin, Mike, and Nanaba are all standing in a circle upstage. Nothing seems particularly special about them so I look back to her in question.

“Watch them,” she says, motioning for me to continue observing. Her head rests on my shoulder once I’ve focused back on the little group and she continues whispering into my ear, “First, Isabel. Watch how she moves. How she pays equal attention to everyone in the group. She smiles at everyone and talks with her hands. She’s a lot like you.” I frown, following her prompts and paying attention to Isabel’s interactions with the group.

Before I can say anything, though, she continues, “Now, Nanaba. They’re much more reserved, only speaking when spoken to. But you can see their eyes soften anytime anyone else laughs. We also saw them sing with Armin, how music is their first love, bar none. They are more like me, an observer.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Not the point. Pay attention, this is where it gets interesting. Erwin is like Armin. Smart, gifted, his mind is always working and usually at least two or three steps ahead of everyone else. He plans and he’s good at using people, not necessarily a bad thing. It’s why he’s been so successful with us. But who does he pay nearly all his attention to, leans into, laughs the most at? Hmm?

“And then there’s Mike. Quiet, stoic, assessing everyone within moments of meeting them. He’s got a thing for scent, you can see the way he takes it in constantly, he leads with his nose. He’s got a fixation, too, but he’s less obvious about it. He’ll take deeper breaths and his eyelids might flutter whenever he’s close to the object of his interest. Do you see yet? Have you got it figured out?”

I watch them all for several more moments in quiet, while Mikasa rests her head more fully on my shoulder and waits for me to work it all out. Isabel is easy, I see myself in her, just as Mikasa said. She’s almost childlike in her enthusiasm.

Nanaba is harder, but years of living with Mikasa helps me pick up on their more subtle social cues. They hold themself proudly, back straight and head held high. But Mikasa is right, they soften every time anyone laughs. In the whole room, really. It’s like laugher is some kind of special treat to them. It brings a smile to my face.

Then I watch Mike and Erwin. They stand close together but don’t seem too out of the ordinary. Erwin is bright and laughs often, and Mike is quiet with a simple smile and he just looks genuinely happy to be here. But then I start watching the patterns. Notice how practically everything Erwin does is centered around the few words Mike says. It’s like he hangs off of them, and his smile is always biggest after he speaks. And from that, it’s not too hard to guess what Mikasa was getting at with Mike. He leans into Erwin, breaths him in deeply and his smile turns up just a touch.

“So what does it mean?”

“It means,” she trills, leaning into me further, “that there is something going on there. Now, it could one of two things. One, they’re together and hiding it, albeit poorly. I don’t really think that one is very feasible, especially considering how open everyone else around here is about how fucking queer they are.”

“You go and use a word like feasible when you’re drunk and then do a complete turn and use a word like queer. How much did you drink?”

Her head lifts up and I can feel her glare on me, “Not relevant. Anyway. Option two, my personal theory, they’re like you and Levi were when you met.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She’s back to smiling, “It means that you two were head over heels for each other and you’re so goddamn oblivious that you couldn’t see it. In this case, I’d say Mike’s oblivious, and Erwin’s too polite to say something.”

“And what is the point of all of…” I make a vague motion trying to encompass both their group’s conversation and Mikasa’s astute observations of it, “this?”

She pulls back from me and leans into her chair, “Gossip, mostly. Plus, you’ve got a loud mouth and Levi’s best friends with Erwin, maybe one thing’ll lead to another and they’ll get over themselves.”

I stare at her incredulously, “You shouldn’t drink. You’re scarier than normal.”

She laughs, full out and bright. It’s an uncommon thing to hear from her and it reminds me how much I love being around her and the rest of my friends, laughing together over another failed attempt at remembering how the song from The Grinch goes. I’ll miss seeing Mikasa so often when I move all of my stuff out.

Life seems to be moving so fast now. My dreams are coming true, I’m working as a musician, just like I’ve wanted since I was ten. I have friends around me to share my experiences with. My parents keep in contact and come up to visit when they can get a chance of both enough money and time. And I’ve got a great relationship with an incredible guy who I just might even…

“Hey, Eren! We’re gonna do gifts now, get your ass over here!” Reiner calls loudly from the circle of chairs that have formed around the tree. I shake my head of my thoughts and join the circle, taking the empty seat between Levi and Armin.

Levi’s practically beside himself with giddiness, at least for him, with the way he takes my hand and squeezes it with an uncharacteristic excitement. He’s got a bigger smile than I’ve seen on him almost any other time.

“Alright, while Hanji’s handing out presents, I’d just like to say how proud I am of all of your hard work in these last few months. I started Survey Agency as a chance to help young talent like yourselves find a place in this very difficult business and you have all exceeded my expectations many times over. I’ve seen you grow as musicians and start to find your way in the world and I am so proud of you all. You’ve done amazing things, and you should all be proud of yourselves as well.”

Hanji cuts off Erwin with a laugh, “If you keep talking you’re either going to have tears or a lot of groaning. Probably both. Let’s open presents!”

Before Erwin can get another word in edgewise, the sound of ripping paper can be heard throughout the theater. People start moving as they open gifts from people sitting farther away and there are raucous voices yelling in glee to one another. I open my gifts with as much ceremony as can be expected from me.

Mikasa got me a pair of gloves that are really warm, but thin enough that I can actually use my hands when I’m wearing them. Armin got me a new block of rosin and a stupid poster of some ancient horror movie from the sixties or something, it’s our tradition. Erwin got everyone a gift card to a local music store, for just more than I’m really comfortable accepting. Annie got me a bottle of lube, which makes my face turn bright red and I hurriedly shove it into my pocket. And my last present is a little music box from Petra with a photograph from Levi and my performance Monday inside and it plays his piece from that concert. It’s stunning.

After I’ve thanked all of them and received thanks from others for my gifts to them, I sit back in my chair and sigh. I don’t really have any time to dwell on being disappointed about the lack of present from Levi before he’s leaning over to me, “I have your present at home.” I look at him with a smile and notice he’s holding one still wrapped package in his hands—the one from me.

I kind of want to run and disappear while he opens the little box, but one look at him roots me in place. I watch him very carefully peel back my meticulous wrapping with the utmost care, not letting even the smallest tear rip the paper. Ever so slowly, he reveals the blue box with the Swarovski name emblazoned across it. He glances at me quickly with something I can’t place in his eyes, then returns to the box. Keeping up his slow pace, he opens the box and reveals the little hummingbird nestled carefully in the cushion.

“Eren, it’s beautiful,” he says quietly, staring at the fragile bird. After a long moment he meets my eyes again, “Thank you.”

“It’s not much, really. I just thought, since you like Christmas so much, and all your ornaments look like this same crystal… Plus it reminded me of you and I just-”

“Eren.” I look at him when he cuts me off, “Thank you, really, I love it. We can hang it up when we get home.”

I nod, a little dumbstruck and embarrassed from my rambling. He offers me a small reassuring smile, carefully reboxes the ornament and sets it aside, then grabs my hand and basks in the atmosphere of the party.

\--

We stay for several more hours, drinking and laughing, contributing to the drunken instrumental mess every so often, maybe not so subtly starting a pool as to when Mike and Erwin are going to get together. By the end of the night, everyone is in various states of inebriation. Hanji starts going around with mistletoe at one point, trying to get couples underneath it. They’re almost successful at getting Mike and Erwin together, but ends up with Mike and Nanaba. Good sports they are, they share a friendly kiss on the cheek and Hanji pouts for a while after that.

It’s late when we leave, but I’m not exactly sure how late. Late enough that I have just more than a buzz, late enough the sky is black and the street is lit by the Christmas lights and the few shop’s windows that are open, late enough that instead of just holding my hand, Levi wraps his arm around my waist and keeps me close despite the sway in both our steps.

We clamber into the apartment with jovial laughter on our lips, my ears buzzing from the sound of it. As we make our way into the living room, lit only by the lights strung around the room and over the tree, Levi starts humming Christmas carols and immediately goes to hang the ornament I gave him. Then he walks into the kitchen and pours us eggnog and joins me where I’ve settled on the couch.

“Here. Be right back.”

He goes to the bedroom- _our_ bedroom-and I wait patiently while sipping at the glass of eggnog. A few moments later, he comes back out holding a fairly large wrapped package and holds it out to me.

“What? That’s for me?” He nods and holds it closer to me, only sitting once I’ve set my glass of eggnog aside and taken the package. It’s not very light and gentle jostling does little to hint at what could possibly be inside. So, instead of continuing to stare at it (and since I can feel Levi’s expectant gaze) I get to opening it.

I’m a much messier present opener than Levi, so the shiny paper that had been wrapped so nicely ends up in ribbons on the floor. Without the paper, I’m just holding a box. Levi helpfully hands me his pocket knife so I can cut open the box and inside is a case. Specifically, a violin case. I can’t fucking believe he’d go and get me a goddamn _instrument_ for Christmas.

Carefully, I lift the case from the box and push the cardboard away. I can feel Levi watching me intently but I don’t dare look at him. I must stare at the case for a long time, because Levi’s voice floats into the spaces between my thoughts, “Open it.”

His voice is like some kind of drug, urging me to obey. My fingers pop the clasps of the case and flip open the lid and what I’m met with is entirely unexpected. Inside the case is a _beautiful_ electric violin, marbled green almost like oxidised copper. The body has this elegant flow to it, like a wave or one of those mirror image drawings I used to do as a kid. The scroll has a chinese looking dragon carved into it with exquisite detail. It’s really quite beautiful. And it leaves me speechless.

My hand runs over the fresh strings so lightly I barely feel them, and only now do I chance looking up at Levi. What I find is the most serene expression I’ve ever seen him wear and it’s just so _soft_ , so _caring_. And I really don’t deserve this.

“Do you like it?”

I’m not sure if my expression actually changes, but I want to say that it looks more incredulous or shocked or something. How could he even ask, how could he not already know? “I- Of course I like it! But, Levi, I can’t accept this.”

“Yes, you can. It’s a gift, one I have very much enjoyed seeing you receive.”

“But this is…” I can’t find the words I need, “It’s so _much_. I don’t know what to say.”

“Here,” he gets up and gets something from near his sound system, and hands me a cord, “Play it.”

I take the cord more because I don’t know what else to do. He waves his hand at me and looks on expectantly. It takes me a moment of empty staring before I give in and plug the violin in. Levi holds up a finger and goes into the bedroom again. When he returns he’s holding a bow, one of his, and hands it to me. I look at him in confusion as there is a bow in the case. “Rosin. This one’s broken in already.”

I nod, take the bow, and ready the violin. I don’t play much or long, but the experience is odd. It’s almost disorienting, having the sound come from the speakers rather than the instrument I’m actually playing. But the sound is lovely and the violin feels nice in my hand. It really is an exceptional instrument.

“It’s beautiful, Levi. Thank you.” He smiles at me and it warms my whole being. I carefully replace the violin in it’s case and set it aside on the couch so I can stand and wrap my arms around his waist, “Do you want your birthday present now, or wait until tomorrow?”

The expression of shock on his face is so out of place that I can’t help but giggle a bit at him. “You didn’t- you already got me something.”

“I got you a Christmas present, but your birthday is tomorrow, too. Just as, if not more, important. So I also got you a birthday present.

He glares at me, but there’s nothing behind it. I smile down at him and kiss his forehead before peeling away and retrieving the wrapped package from under the tree. He takes it and sits on the couch to tear open the paper, with the exact same care he gave his Christmas present. The look on his face when he sees what it is and runs his hands over it must be a lot like the the one I wore when I opened his present. Just watching him is making my skin buzz with this odd electricity and making my heart feel like it’s simultaneously squeezing and exploding in my chest.

“This is… this is lovely.”

I run a hand through my hair and scratch at the back of my head with sudden nerves, “I don’t know if you even have anything to play on it, but I just thought you might like it.”

He looks up at me and smiles brilliantly and there’s something swimming behind his eyes that I can’t quite place, “I do. Very much. And I do have some records somewhere around here. We can try it out tomorrow.”

I shift on the balls of my feet in the middle of the room while he sets the player up on top of the case next to the television. I’m so jumpy and nervous for no reason at all that when he comes up behind me and slides his hands into my front pockets, I nearly jump out of my socks. “Someone’s a little jumpy,” he murmurs as he brushes soft lips along the nape of my neck, sending this weird combination of shivers and shocks of pleasure down my spine and to the tips of my fingers, “Let’s go to bed and I’ll help you calm down and thank you for the gifts.” His fingers brush against something in my pocket, “And try out this one.” I can feel his smirk and my face heats when I realise the lube from Annie is still in my pocket.

He uses the leverage he’s given himself with his hands in my pocket and pulls me back against him and _grinds_ into me. Needless to say, moments later we end up in the bed, with Levi looming over me, his shirt hanging open and mine somewhere on the floor between the living room and the bed.

Levi’s hands run down my ribs and I pull him down for a kiss, tasting hi-

Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony starts playing loudly, halting any progress. Levi sighs loudly and irritatedly before looking down at me in apology, “You know they’ll just keep calling if I don’t answer.”

“Go, figure out what they want, I’m sure it’s something ridiculous.”

He leans down with another apologetic smile and pecks my lips, “Love you, be right back.”

He rolls off of me and digs his phone out of his pocket as he walks into the living room to take the call and I prop myself up on my elbows to watch him leave. I sigh, laying back into the mattress and grin. I must be the luckiest guy to have someone like Levi who shares my interests, shares his bed, shares his lo-

Wait.

I sit bolt upright as the realisation washes over me. He’s never said that before, neither of us have. And it was so nonchalant, so common place, like he’d been saying it for months, like it just slipped out. It’s almost as if there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he meant the little four letter word.

It kind of scares me.

Scares me, but also excited me. Puts a massive smile on my face before I can stop it. That warm feeling I’ve been getting lately through my body and in my chest intensifies. And I realise that it really doesn’t scare me all that much after all. Maybe in the sense that this means there are things about the future we have to think about, people we need to talk to maybe. But really, none of that matters, because when Levi comes back in smirking, I know the truth.

“Hanji just wanted to let us know that Mikasa and Annie won the pool on the blonde giants getting together…” His smirk fades and is replaced with a look of pure concern, “Eren? What-”

“I love you, too.”

His eyes widen for only a moment before his face softens into what I’ve come to realise is pure, loving adoration. He approaches me and climbs back on the bed into my lap with a knee to either side of my thighs and takes me face in both of his hands. The kiss that follows is so sweet and gentle, it makes me dizzy.

He pulls back and I try to chase after him, but he holds me at bay, staring into my eyes with so much _love_ , it almost hurts to look back. “You are so incredible. I love you so much, Eren.”

It’s dark in the room, but that doesn’t matter, because the way his eyes shine may as well light up the whole room. And really, I don’t need to see. Just need to hear the music of his voice as he keeps telling me, over and over and over again, just how much he loves me.

**Author's Note:**

> Erhus are cool, listen to some music in which they are played.
> 
> The [turntable](http://www.busyboo.com/wp-content/uploads/wood-turntable-barky.jpg)  
> The [ornament](https://img0.etsystatic.com/047/1/7332541/il_340x270.693610948_hqch.jpg) (except blue instead of purple)  
> The [violin](http://www.ebay.com/itm/Beautiful-SONG-streamline-carved-dragon-scroll-4-4-electric-violin-solid-wood-/351134908174)
> 
> Comments, kudos, etc. much appreciated!


End file.
